Out on a limb, down through a roof

A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. ² They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. ³ Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. ⁴ Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. ⁵ When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

⁶ Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, ⁷ “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

⁸ Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things? ⁹ Which is easier: to say to this paralyzed man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’? ¹⁰ But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the man, ¹¹ “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” ¹² He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

When was the last time you felt like you had gone WAY out on a limb? When did you last feel like you were in completely unfamiliar territory, frightened by the unknown, afraid of being attacked from some unseen direction, but resolute no less? I’ve been hanging out there for a couple days now. A gut-churning series of events in my life has led me to consider a course of action I’ve never considered before. I’ve been working on an idea that feels like lunacy to me, but I can’t think of a good reason NOT to do it. I know that’s vague but I’m not ready to publically commit to the idea.

I imagine that’s where the paralytic and his 4 friends were. I imagine them getting to the crowded house and feeling crestfallen. There’s no way they were going to get to Jesus. They looked at each other wondering what to do, then at their paralyzed friend, who looked up with desperate eyes. Please…. Please… Get me to Jesus. More looks and someone has an idea. We’ll dig our way to Jesus. Of course, that would involve vandalism, hard work, and lots of presumption. But considering their dedication to their friend and what they’d heard Jesus could do, they couldn’t think of a really good reason NOT to do it. So through the roof they went!

Jesus could have denounced them for this, but he recognized their hope-galvanized vulnerability and admires them for it. I wonder though, given his experience with the leper a few days earlier if he wasn’t hesitant to heal the paralytic. The reason people are crowding to see him was that they had heard he was a miracle-worker and now he was hesitant to pander to their expectations. So he was only “preaching the word to them.”

But seeing risk and vulnerability in the 5 men, he seems to narrow his eyes and look around the room at those present, gauging their responses. Looking at the Pharisees, he makes a decision. “Son, your sins are forgiven.” I’m sure the crowds were confused. The religious folks were enraged. But then, to demonstrate his authority and identity, Jesus heals the man and sends him home. The people were amazed. The religious folks were still enraged, though culled for now.

Here’s a couple quick take-away bullet points for me:

1.    Jesus likes to challenge people’s assumptions.

2.   Jesus likes to demonstrate his authority and identity, especially to those who question it.

3.   Jesus is really into vulnerable people.

The Unfairness of Kindness and the Indignant Jesus

Mark 1:40-45…

⁴⁰ A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”

⁴¹ Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” ⁴² Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed.

⁴³ Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: ⁴⁴ “See that you don’t tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.” ⁴⁵ Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere.

Believe it or not, my bible says Jesus was “filled with compassion”, not indignant. So yesterday, I was all ready to write a blog on the surprising compassion of Jesus when I stumbled across this newer translation. Apparently, the words look similar in the Greek and the translation committee had manuscripts using both words. They felt “indignant” was more appropriate to the context of Mark’s gospel and probably a scribe, not understanding why Jesus should be upset about healing a leper, tweaked the words to read “filled with compassion.” I might’ve done the same thing and I have to admit I felt “indignant” that I should have to adjust my reading of scripture here to account for an annoyed Jesus healing a leper.  Seems kind of cold doesn’t it?

Well, I’ve done some reading and to my chagrin, I’ve concluded that indignant is probably a  good translation, but the question I have to ask is “why”? Isn’t Jesus known for his compassion with the downtrodden? Why would he be mad that a poor beleagured soul is throwing himself in an act of faith and reliance at the feet of the Savior? Here’s a couple possible reasons I reject:

1. Jesus just rolled out of the wrong side of the bed that morning. I assume that everything in this gospel is written for a reason and I can think of a million other ways to say, “Jesus had grumpy days.” No, I think this story is more complex than that.

2. Being Jewish, Jesus was mad that a leper would approach him, making him ceremonially unclean. Then why would Mark go out of the way to record that Jesus “reached out” and touched the man? Seems like touching would be counterproductive and Jesus constantly harps on people who just clean “the outside of the cup.”

So here are 3 reasons for Jesus’ indignance that I find probable and consistent with the Jesus in Mark. All 3 rely on Jesus knowing how this would all play out if he healed the man.

       1.     If I heal this man Satan will use his testimony to cloud peoples’ minds about my true identity and mission. People already think I’m a magician and this will be one more reason for people to love me for what I do and not for who I am. The only way around this is if he agrees to keep his healing a secret from the crowds.

       2.     If I heal this man, the priests will be upset that I made myself ceremonially unclean rather than understanding the significance of the fact that the work of my Father is being done. The only way to challenge their paradigm is to send this man to them to fulfill his religious obligation in being healed.

       3.     I know what’s in this man’s heart. He believes me for healing. But he doesn’t trust me enough to obey my instructions. He’s going to tell everyone about this, driving everybody away from a right understanding of who I am and what I came to do.

All these seem consistent with Jesus saying, “how long must I put up with this generation,” or in modern English, “you guys just don’t get it do you?” But what I see in Jesus, deeper than anger or indignance, is a deeply principled person who, compelled by the Father’s love and the Father’s business, rejects a number of practical considerations and does something because it's right, regardless of “what this will mean.”

Debra and I are watching MI-5 on Netflix. It’s a British TV series in which officers of the intelligence service are constantly forced in ethical quandaries in which functionalistic considerations are weighed against moral standards. Usually the bad guys say things like, “nobody plays by the rules anymore. If we insist on towing the line of ethical conduct, the nation we’re charged to protect will be destroyed or marginalized. Scrupulous people are naïve. We can’t afford morality. You’ve gotta break a few eggs…” Of course the good guys are always insisting that if we lose sight of our standards, we’ve lost something much deeper than our physical security.

That’s kind of what I see here in Jesus’ actions. He’s upset by the rottenness of the human heart. He’s frustrated that his choice to heal a single leper will (at least in the short run) lead to scandal and misunderstanding rather than the redemption of people. But he looks angrily into the face of practical considerations and flips them the bird. He must do His Father’s work. It’s who He is. He can do nothing else.

Have you ever felt like doing the “right thing” is a trap? I have. Everytime I give a dollar to a homeless person, I feel like it’s a trap set just for me. I feel a deep anger, an “indignance” that my compassion might lead to dependency or empowering unhealthy choices. I hate living in a world in which kindness can have seriously negative consequences. It so unfair. And inevitably, the pressure of “what this will do” to the person drives me at the end of the day to close my garage door and turn on my TV and try not to think about it. But Jesus thinks about it. And if I’m following Him, I’ll have to think about it.

I’m not saying we should reject common sense or all practical considerations. But I am saying we have to stay engaged. We have to wrestle. And at the end of the day, if we’re following Jesus, we have to choose to be about the Father’s business, even if doing so opens a can of worms. Of course it’ll make us angry. It SHOULD make us angry! But if we forget what the Father is about, then we’ve forgotten a critical part of what it means to be Christian. So here’s a refresher from the words of Jesus:

 “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me,

for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released,

that the blind will see,

that the oppressed will be set free,

and that the time of the LORD’s favor has come.”

“For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”

As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work.

“Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

The truth about truth.

So… Guy walks into the bank and says to the teller, “I want 200 bucks!”

“I’m sorry sir,” replies the teller. “You only have 100 dollars in your account.”

“Now,” said the Evangelical man across the table from me. “Nobody in their right minds would say, ‘look man, that might be your truth, but my truth is different.’” He looked around the table as if to say, “that takes care of the question of absolute truth.”

Well, I was feeling courageous (or snarky perhaps) so I chimed in. “I don’t think that’s representative of most post-moderns. We’re not debating how much money is in the account or that the teller knows best. We’re just saying you’re not the teller! You’re just a random person in line trying to tell me how much money is in my account!”

So let’s get something straight here. My generation is struggling to live in a world where competing worldviews are constantly threatening to rip each other to shreds. So in the mind of your average agnostic college kid, God exists. And God has a monopoly on Truth: Big T Truth. But you don’t. So they say, “don’t tell me about your absolute truths because who are we kidding? You’re just as flawed as me.” You’re not God. You’re not the teller. You’re just another blind man describing one part of the elephant.

But let’s say you tell me, “I know I’m not the teller, but he’s a close friend of mine. He invites me to his side of the counter every day and shows me his accounts. I could be wrong but I could swear I saw you only had $100.” Then you might believe me.

The problem is your average agnostic college kid lives in a worldview in which tellers do NOT form close friendships with bank customers and certainly do not share account information with just anybody. It seems disingenuous, even scandalous that you might purport to know God personally and intimately.

Someone recently asked me, “Do you really mean to tell me that God talks to you or are you speaking figuratively?” It took me a moment to remember that this question shouldn’t surprise me. It was a bit scandalous for me too when the Holy Spirit started speaking regularly. Now it feels normal. God is no longer a mighty untouchable King James God. His voice is familiar, affirming, challenging, and instructive. And yeah, it’s quite literal. Like “Go to the store at 10AM and look for the guy with the purple socks” literal. Crazy thing is, sometimes the guy with the purple socks is there!

So based on the trust relationship I’ve built with him and the stuff he says, I believe my beliefs. I believe them so much that I’m willing to promote them. But I also recognize my own fickle humanity and fallibility enough to be humble and intentional about the things I say most loudly. It’s not like I’m saying my word is Absolute Truth.  But I’m saying that I have a personal, if imperfect relationship with Absolute Truth. I get it wrong. I’m deeply flawed and deeply subjective in my pursuit of the Absolute. But one of the things I’m quite confident about is the existence of a personal God who is deeply involved in the process of revelation. He WANTS to be known. That’s why he keeps stepping in, intervening, pursuing His creation. So I keep looking for truth because I know that true things are not only discernable, but WANT to be discerned.

Truth is relational. (“I am the truth,” says Jesus.) But relationships are messy and subjective things. Can Christians be comfortable with the tension of confidence within subjectivity? I think we must be.

Are they Born That Way? Why This Evangelical Can Say “Yes”

I’m growing up in a generation in which homosexual relationships are slowly being normalized in the media. The narrative of the gay community is gradually being told for entertainment-seekers across America. At first this bugged me. After all, I’m fairly conservative in my views and have not been able to reconcile the gay lifestyle with an honest reading of the bible. (I suspect that last statement rouses an emotional response in many people which further demonstrates that we live in an increasingly polarized world in which civil disagreements are alarmingly rare.)

It has become much more normal (and I admit quite interesting, though still not entirely comfortable)  to see the unique challenges and dynamics of gay relationships and orientation communicated across the airwaves. One of the shows that I think does a good job of telling that story is Downton Abbey. Yes, we’re THOSE people. We love the show and are fascinated by the complex human interactions in a world driven by status.

If you’re not into the show, Thomas, a closeted gay servant spends most episodes plotting, backbiting, and generally being a jerk. But recently he visited the bedroom of another male servant whom he mistook for being gay. The other servant, angry at Thomas’ sexual advance condemns him loudly and makes sure that Thomas is dismissed from service.

One of the ideas that comes out is that Thomas didn’t choose this lifestyle but that he was born this way. As Thomas says to his supervisor, “I’m not foul, Mr. Carson. I may be different than you but I’m not foul.” The compassionate Mrs. Hughes agrees that Thomas in spite of all his flaws did not choose to be gay.

I appreciate the show’s ability to show every character as good and evil despite their views. All characters, wherever they land on the debate, are capable of arrogance, intolerance, and profound compassion.

But I know that many of my evangelical friends will take offense at the “subtle message” in the show that a homosexual orientation can be innate from birth. Trouble is, I think many of my gay friends are “born with it.”  But how can I say that and still land with the evangelicals? How can I admit that something is ingrained in a person’s nature but not encourage that person to act on that aspect of their identity? Isn’t it cruel? Shouldn’t we be free to act out according to our personal nature in ways that do no harm?

Some Christians will say “Homosexuality is inborn… just like alcoholism or sociopathic tendencies.”  I take issue with that because those things cause clear harm to self and others. On the contrary I’ve seen loving, monogamous gay relationships that seem to bring people to new places of life and creativity.

But I DO think we live and breathe in a tainted universe. Some of the affects of what Christians call “original sin” are the bad things we choose do. But we’re also victims of a twisted world in which bad things happen to us… some things nobody can control. Pain and unright-ness enter the world from all angles: natural disasters, honest misunderstandings, fear-driven behavior, “natural” predispositions, or just plain rottenness…

I think the bigger issue for Christians is… If homosexuality is always a choice, then our approach will be to help gay people “unchoose” their orientation. (Likewise if everything wrong in the universe is a result of someone’s choices, then we’ll lean heavily on behavior modification to get us out of this mess.) I’m suspicious of so-called “reparative” therapy and I would never encourage one of my gay friends to “pray away the gay.” A fascinating long-term study on “reparative” programs like Exodus International showed that people’s experiences in such programs were not on-average negative or psychologically harmful but that reported “heterosexual adjustment” or changes in orientation were relatively minor.

http://www.amazon.com/Ex-Gays-Longitudinal-Religiously-Mediated-Orientation/product-reviews/083082846X/ref=dp_top_cm_cr_acr_txt?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1

I figure that in the final analysis, we’re all born somewhere on the orientation spectrum (yes, I think it’s a spectrum). Some people may make choices to identify more or less strongly with that orientation. I have gay friends that refuse to call themselves gay and prefer to use the terminology of attraction over orientation. Other people will just “call it what it is” and move on with life. But I’m suspicious of anybody who assumes that what is natural is always good if it can be deemed “harmless”… one, because of the seldom-examined philosophical and theological underpinnings of the simple word “harm”. And two because the story of Eden teaches Christians that not all things created are meant to be engaged and not all things natural are made for exploration.

The watershed question for humans is, “can a good God make fruit which I must not eat? Can self-control or self-limitation still end in my happiness and fulfillment? And I think the answer is that it can and it will, but each person must deeply wrestle with that question for themselves.

In my life, I’ve felt deep anger toward God for hardwiring things into me which I must live with and control every day. I’ve experienced the alienation of not feeling allowed to participate in the things which feel deeply ingrained, even natural from birth. How could a kind God allow this to happen?

But throughout those struggles, the one thing I’ve found God to be is kind: Kinder than tolerance or civility or acceptance. Kind enough to hold me, to love me, and yes, kind enough to challenge me and to allow me to face painful inner struggles that come from the deep places where my very identity lives. BECAUSE of God’s kindness, I feel I have choice again... maybe not the ability to choose my sexual orientation, but certainly the ability to choose my actions. Because of the intimate whispering love of the Father, I could be absolutely gay, absolutely celibate, and absolutely content.

I know that saying this won’t make me very many friends. I think many people find me either too conservative or too liberal. But this is as true to my experience and understanding as I can get right now.

Many of my friends and family will disagree strongly, but choose to remain in relationship with me. I’m happy with that. Because one thing our opinions or dogmas or sexual orientations CANNOT do is make us less human or less loved. I’m tired of the rampant self-righteousness of humanists and Christians alike which withholds human dignity and belonging to whole groups of people based solely on what they think. I believe what I believe and I’ll be honest… I can be arrogant and dogmatic about it sometimes. But your right to be treated with dignity as a human being made in God’s image should NEVER be mitigated by my dogmas. Period.

And that, I think, is the real heart-cry of a young generation wrestling through life in a pluralistic society. Outside of more radical postmodern experiments it’s not a cry for co-existence. It’s a cry for kindness. And THAT’S why Jesus is still relevant to my generation.

Jesus ups the Ante

¹⁴ After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee,proclaiming the good news of God. ¹⁵ “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!”

¹⁶ As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. ¹⁷ “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” ¹⁸ At once they left their nets and followed him.

¹⁹ When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. ²⁰ Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.

Jesus picks things up where John left off: Preaching the “good news” that God’s kingdom is near. By the way, did you know that the cross and resurrection are NOT the gospel? The kingdom… the reign and authority of God are the gospel. The idea that God is coming to make things right and take charge of his creation… that’s the good news. Atonement is just a vehicle, or one chapter in the story of God coming to reign. So Jesus is saying, “You guys have been suffering under the tyrannical rule of sin and the law. But the dynasty of God is being born in your midst. HIS rule is one of ‘love that will not betray you, dismay or enslave you. It will set you free to be more like the man you were made to be.’” (Thanks Mr. Mumford)

That’s step one. Step two is to surround himself with a few not-so-bright guys who he can disciple. So he calls 4 fishermen and they drop everything to follow Jesus. I’ve heard this was the standard M.O. for lots of rabbis back then. A kid would spend years in Jewish school and then go to work, waiting and hoping a rabbi would come along and pick him up for further training. Apparently these guys had been passed over one time too many. But Jesus sees something in them that others didn’t see. I’m not sure I’d call it “potential” or “teachability”… maybe it’s the mystery of election. Maybe it’s just God’s way, revealing profound things to the “nobodies” that the “somebodies” will never get. Same principle applies today. I know lots and lots of smart, passionate, good people that really struggle to see realities that my simple, uneducated, or irreligious friends understand. I guess Jesus just likes turning stuff inside out.

Another thing Jesus likes to do is up the ante. “Think you know about the law? Let me tell you about the heart. You think murder is bad? Let me tell you about hatred? So you’re against adultery? Let’s talk about lust. So you’re Abraham’s kids huh? Well you’re talking to someone greater than Abraham and you don’t recognize me.”

 He does it here with the 4 fishermen. “Think you know a thing or two about fishing? I’ll show you how to fish for people!” He took what they found mundane and compulsory and turned it into a metaphor for the kingdom. He does that with us too. Suddenly the ordinary becomes extraordinary, the lifeless is endowed with Spirit. That’s how he is. The rigid and inanimate becomes suddenly green and organic in his presence. He takes who we are and what we know and ups the ante.

So how’s God upping the ante in your life? What’s he redeeming, remaking, shifting, and sorting? What’s his big idea for your life? What’s normal stuff is he turning into really cool intentional stuff?

I’ll let you into my own process here by way of example. When I was a kid, I wasn’t a leader. I wasn’t charismatic or popular. I was a dreamer, ultra-sensitive, intense people-pleaser, overactive imagination. I had a couple good friends but nothing like a friend group. When I devoted my life to Jesus (after a summer fling with teenage narcissism) I changed. Over the course of 2 years, I became a charismatic young leader full of passion and wisdom. My mentors and peers were all impressed by the transformation and of course, that was the point. Even though I had an authentic relationship with God, I also had a parallel journey as a serial approval-seeker. So as I’ve gotten closer to 30, I’ve viewed my heart for spiritual leadership with some amount of distrust and disdain. There’s a quiet worry that I’ve sold out for the sake of peoples’ praise and if that’s the case, I’d rather not be a leader, or world-changer, or catalyst. I’d rather just be messy old me.

And of course the way God is redeeming that, the way he’s “upping the ante” on me is by showing me that I can lead as messy old me full of honesty and character flaws and vulnerability…. Not because people praise me for it, but because I love people and because God loves me and because God loves people. I’m not there yet. I’m still pretty vain and pretty insecure. But I think I’m moving that way. And that’s good news because if “ministry” ever becomes inorganic and institutional for me, I’ll burn out quick.

When I was 13 I felt a strange certainty that God was “calling” me to be a missionary in Africa. For the next 10 years, I worked my tail off to hammer out every detail of what that would mean. Suddenly, my calling was this cumbersome thing. Then one day, I married a woman and HER life calling totally messed up all the details of my 10-year plan. Then God said, “hey what if instead of trying to fill in all the blanks you just trusted me that this IS your calling, but that your most immediate calling is to listen and follow me in the ‘little stuff’ day by day, not just in the ‘big stuff’? I’ll fill in the gaps. It’s gonna make sense in the end.” Suddenly the calling felt light again the pressure was lifted.

So today I’m struggling to trust Jesus to make diamonds out of doldrums in my life; to take seemingly flowery and impossible promises (like the promise of people-fishing must have seemed to the disciples) and make them gut-wrenchingly real and practical and genuine.

One more reason that I really like being around Jesus.

The "Secret Sauce" for Finding Courage

^"9 At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. ¹⁰ Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. ¹¹ And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

¹² At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness, ¹³ and he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him." (Mark 1:9-13)

What possessed Jesus to go to the wilderness to be tempted? Where did he get the courage to do such an uncomfortable thing? I’ll suggest it was an experience of the Father’s love and the Spirit’s presence at his baptism.

That moment in the Jordan must have been a moment of clarity for Jesus. God knew there were difficult tasks ahead so he gave Jesus 2 big “tools” for his tool belt. These two truths would carry him through the desert, through his ministry, and to the cross.

           1.    The Spirit is with me, leading and empowering me.

           2.   The Father loves me. I’m his son. And he’s proud of me.

So compelled by the Spirit’s presence and the Father’s love he went willingly into the desert, into hunger, deprivation, and temptation. Notice who’s in the desert? Angels, animals, the Holy Spirit, and the Devil. Notice who’s NOT there? People. I think Jesus went to the desert not just to say “no” to Satan and get clarity on his mission. I think he spent that time apart from civilization, apart from food, apart from human relationships, to learn how to rely on the Spirit and engage with spiritual realities around him. I think it was HERE in this place of total vulnerability that Jesus grew deeper into this “oneness”, this intimacy with the Father.

When I personally experience the Father’s love and the Holy Spirit’s active presence in my life, THEN I gain the power to do the scariest things imaginable. It’s not a pep talk or a kick in the pants or a biblical education that gives me courage. It’s a deep unshakeable knowledge that Daddy loves me and that His Presence is with me, that my life is no accident and that I am no orphan. When I can learn to HEAR the Father’s acceptance, and SEE the Spirit, that’s when I gain the courage to be vulnerable and to rely on Him every day.

This is changing the way I think about parenting. It’s tempting to focus on behavior modification or “winning battles” or protecting my kids or fostering their independence as the stuff that will help my children become courageous adults. But I’m beginning to see that it starts at a much deeper level. Before I do anything else as a parent I need my kids to know two things:

1.    I love you. I’m proud of you. You are MY child.

2.   Your life is no accident. You have great purpose.

We’re currently deciding whether to our daughter to public or private school. Debra had an excellent experience in a small Christian school where she experienced a feeling of acceptance and belonging. The last thing we’d want for our 4-year-old is for her to be in a classroom (public OR private) where she feels she doesn’t belong or isn’t accepted. Given my daughter’s sensitivity to shame and rejection, we feel pressure to make the right decision from the get-go.

But as I look back on my childhood and think of MY most painful experiences with rejection, I’m realizing something profound. If I had felt comfortable enough to fall in my father’s arms, to embrace my mother’s acceptance, to grow deep in the knowledge that I have a place of nurture and love and belonging… then I could have dealt with those painful experiences with grace and courage. My parents are kind and caring people who sought to instill in me a sense of love and belonging. But no parent is perfect and I needed to make the choice to trust in their care.

So as I parent MY kids, my focus isn’t on keeping them from challenging or painful situations. My focus is on ensuring that every challenging or painful situation in their life is matched by countless experiences which show them that they are loved, that I am emotionally present for them, that they have a place in their father’s heart and in their father’s arms.

If you’re still reading this, I want you to listen to this. It has become the fodder of endless conversation in our house:

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

Researcher Brenee Brown nails it on the head. In this 20-minute talk, she discusses her research into what gives people the courage to live whole-hearted lives full of risk and vulnerability (or faith, if you like). She basically says that the courage to be vulnerable, to “risk it” with the people and situations in our lives, comes from an innate belief that one’s love and belonging are never on the line. Even if our endeavors fail, WE cannot become failures. Even if our relationships go south, we believe that we are worthy of receiving love. And that belief beyond anything else is what makes us brave.

I think the secret to Jesus’ obedience, his courage, his authoritative confidence, his willingness to do ANYTHING, stemmed from that moment in the Jordan, and other moments throughout his life when he could SEE the Spirit and HEAR the Father. Likewise, in our pursuit of maturity, in our passion to get “unstuck” and grow deeper in God, I think that’s where our focus should be: experiencing the Father’s love… and understanding the Spirit’s presence and purpose in our lives.

Camel Hair and Single-Mindedness

I’m reading slowly through the life of Jesus according to Mark. I thought you might like to join me. J

Here’s the first chunk of chapter 1 for your reference:

1 The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah,^[a] the Son of God,^[b] 2 as it is written in Isaiah the prophet:

“I will send my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way”^[c]—
³ “a voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
    make straight paths for him.’”^[d]

⁴ And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁵ The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. ⁶ John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.⁷ And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. ⁸ I baptize you with^[e] water, but he will baptize you with^[f] the Holy Spirit.”

It makes sense to tie John to the Old Testament though because Jesus later says that for those that can accept it, John was the “Elijah” that was to preceded the Messiah.

Now hold on. Didn’t John say that he WASN’T Elijah? Here’s how I figure it. John didn’t imagine himself to be Elijah resurrected. But Jesus understood that he was a TYPE of Elijah (or if you prefer, Elijah was a type of John). In other words, everything Elijah represented, John perfected.

Both Elijah and John had that wild-eyed prophetic bent. Both guys confronted sin in their nation. Both guys were fed by God in the desert. Both prepared the way for someone greater. (In Elijah’s case it was Elisha who got double-mojo from Elijah and did way more miracles. So you might also say Elisha was a type of Jesus.)

Now here’s something I find really interesting: John preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins… for the forgiveness of sins! Is this the cart before the horse? Wasn’t Jesus supposed to die first to make this very forgiveness possible? So where did John get the chutzpah to offer God’s forgiveness to people? This is way outside the box. The law said forgiveness came through sacrifice. But John’s saying forgiveness comes when you say sorry to God and change your mind about sin. At first blush this seems like a gaping hole in the history of atonement theology. What’s the significance of saying sorry? What’s the efficacy of repentance? And what does atonement offer that an apology cannot? Or did John recognize that repentance is just one step in the process of forgiveness culminating in the cross? I don’t have the answer. I’d love to hear your explanation.

One thing was clear: John’s baptisms acted as a massive razor-sharp plow in the heart of the Jewish nation, tilling the spiritual soil for the seeds Jesus would plant. He was a waymaker.

And a waymaker was just about ALL he was. John was no renaissance man. He was a single-purpose guy. And when that purpose was fulfilled, he went to prison and got himself executed. And this, according to Jesus, was the greatest man ever born to date (though in the kingdom, the least person would be greater than him).

John knew his purpose on the earth. He focused all his energy on that purpose. Then he went home.

So what’s your purpose on planet earth? As best you can tell, why are you here?

For me it’s tempting to try to be and do everything. I want to be an incredibly complex and multi-talented person who single-handedly changes the world. Why do I have that compulsion? Honestly, I think it’s because I’m addicted to being appreciated. I want everybody to like me and think I’m great. But John didn’t want to be great. He just wanted to do his job. So what’s my job?

As best I can tell, here’s my life’s purpose:

1.             Get to know God. Grow more in love with Him.

2.            Express that love by learning to love people around me, especially the family God has entrusted to me.

3.            Make a spiritual investment in the continent of Africa, helping others get to know God and grow more in love with Him.

And if that’s ALL I do in my life, that’s plenty.

I also dream of being a musician, teacher, mentor, writer, globe-trotter, community-maker, etc. But I think that might be more about wiring than calling. I hope I get to have lots of different adventures in God’s kingdom. But I need to let go of the idea that God’s plan for me will help me get my approval fix. Like John I want to understand my small purpose in the presence of someone much greater than me. I want a slow, single-minded deliberateness to chip away at that purpose as God leads me, and to accomplish my small purpose in the bigger story with wide-eyed intentionality. 

PS- anybody want comment on the baptism of the Holy Spirit that Jesus was supposed to bring? I left that part out but I think it's profound.